Spare Change
by BeneathTheUmbrella
Summary: Tracy has a dream: she wants to end poverty. Love and altruism come together! (One-shot.)


_Ok, the idea for this story came to me a few days ago, and I just pounded it out in a little over an hour. I'm not trying to make Tracy an angel on earth, but it's always irked me that her ambitions were never fleshed out. She can say she wants to end poverty and we hear about her book, but there's got to be more to it than that, like Ted's love of architecture or Marshall's desire to save the environment. It's her career ambition, yes, but there's got to be a backstory to it; after all, "end poverty" is such a blanket term, much like a prospective Miss America who says she wants world peace. I've touched on her future accomplishments a little bit in a couple of my other stories, but I thought I'd further elaborate here. And, also, how her altruism has a positive effect on Ted. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Spare some change?"

Ted watches Tracy as she looks down at the homeless man sitting up against a brick wall, his beard scraggly, his clothes dirty.

She reaches into her change purse and pulls out a few coins, dropping them into the paper cup in his hand. "Here you go," she tells him softly.

The man looks up at her, and Tracy makes sure to look him in the eyes.

"Thanks," he says gruffly, but even in the dark of night, his face illuminated by a nearby streetlight, Ted can see the grateful look in the man's eyes. Judging by his otherwise empty to-go coffee cup, not many people seem to have stopped to give him a hand that evening.

Tracy offers him a kind smile, and then looks up at Ted sadly. He takes her hand and gives it a squeeze, and they continue to walk in the direction of his apartment.

This is the norm for them whenever they're out walking together, whether they're on their way to MacLaren's or out to dinner, walking over to the grocery store, or simply when out on their regular evening strolls, such as now. Tracy can't help but stop and hand out some change to any and every homeless person she comes across.

Ted learned of this habit early on in their relationship, the previous summer when they'd be out and about enjoying the warm weather, and Tracy stopped in front of every homeless man and woman she saw, unzipping her purse and fumbling with her wallet, handing out whatever spare change she had left.

After about eight people, Tracy realized she had given away all the money from her wallet. She tapped Ted on the shoulder. "Ted, do you have a few quarters I can borrow?" she asked him sheepishly. "That guy over there looks hungry."

He gave her a smile and reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a dollar bill. She grinned widely, taking it from his fingers and planting a sweet kiss on his cheek, before walking over to hand it to the homeless gentleman.

She was quickly back at Ted's side, and he put his arm around her shoulders as they continued with their walk. "So... is there anything you want to tell me?" he asked with a kind laugh.

Tracy blushed as she began to explain, telling him a story from when she was 13. It was a time when her then-blue collar dad was still working days and taking business classes at night, and while her family had a roof over their heads and food on the table, Tracy had been particularly ungrateful one day, whining about having to share a bedroom with her two older brothers, as well as over the fact that her parents couldn't afford to buy her a pair of these new trendy jeans that she wanted.

"I was a total brat about it," she admitted to him.

"You were just being a normal teenager," he pointed out.

"I know," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But looking back, I was definitely acting thankless. Anyway, my parents could've easily given me a what-for. But what they ended up doing was take me to a homeless shelter and food bank. You wouldn't believe how many people were there, Ted, and they were all just grateful for a warm cup of coffee or a bowl of soup. And that's when I realized, that while I may not have had everything I wanted, I really had more than other people did. And that changed my attitude completely." Tracy paused. "Well, almost completely. I still wanted my own room. I can't even talk about what I've accidentally walked in on." She shuddered.

And she then proceeded to tell him about how she started volunteering at the shelter once a week. How she organized through her church to get a bunch guitars donated so that she could teach music to a few people. ("One of them even eventually started his own jazz band!" she revealed.) And how she couldn't help but give change or buy a coffee and donut to a homeless person on the street.

"Being acknowledged, letting them know that people care, that's all they want," she told him sadly. "They're outcasts in society and people just walk past them as if they don't even exist. It's just heartbreaking."

And that's when Ted realized just what a huge heart his new girlfriend had. He just fell in love with her warmth, her giving nature, and her actual concern for society and the human race. Ted was so proud, and he was happy to help in any way he could.

So he volunteered along with her at a nearby homeless shelter on occasion. He helped her organize a clothing drive shortly before the holidays. And he was there to console her after she gave out all her change (and all of his) to a dozen or so people but didn't have anything else left for the next homeless person she spotted, Ted gently reminding her that she was already doing so much, and that she was only one person—she couldn't carry the weight of Manhattan's entire homeless population on her shoulders.

"It's why you do what you do," he told her once, in regards to her new job at the non-profit, as well as her recent discussions about perhaps going for her Masters degree soon. "You're actively trying to change these people's lives for the better. They may seem like small steps, but you _are_ making a difference. Don't forget that."

As now, as they continue to walk, the cold and brutal January weather making it the perfect occasion for them to just brew some coffee and wrap themselves in a warm blanket, Ted notices a concerned look on Tracy's face.

He follows her gaze to a man across the street, sitting outside in a t-shirt, begging passersby for some money, his body quivering.

"Baby," she murmurs, stopping in her tracks and tugging at Ted's sleeve, her voice cracking. "Give him your jacket."

"And just what am _I_ supposed to wear?" he says as a joke, but he's already removing his personal belongings from his pockets and shrugging off his coat, shivering as he stands outside in minus 16-degree weather in his sweater, feeling even more concern for the poor man in his t-shirt.

"I'll keep you warm," she promises as she wraps her arms around him gratefully. He kisses the knit cap on her head, and she then takes his gloved hand in hers as they carefully jog across the street.

They walk up to the man sitting on the sidewalk, and Tracy crouches down so that she's eye-level with him.

"Hi there," she says in her usual friendly manner, treating him the same as she would anyone else in the world. He looks into Tracy's eyes and then, as Ted drapes his jacket on the man's shoulders, he moves his gaze upwards.

"Hi," he says quietly, now looking downwards at his lap. Ted notices that the young man was not much older than 21. He was practically a kid.

"Are you hungry?" she asks him kindly, as she proceeds to remove her large wool mittens and places them in his hands. "We can get you something to eat."

The man simply nods, and Tracy and Ted quickly run over to a nearby McDonald's to buy him a burger, fries, and coffee. They return a few minutes later to find him in the same spot, having inserted his arms into the jacket sleeves, lifted the hood over his head, and zipped it up to his chin, his hands inside Tracy's pink mittens.

"Here you go, man," Ted says as he hands over the paper bag, the guy taking it in his hands tentatively, but gratefully.

"Thanks," he says, looking at Ted and then at Tracy, giving them a small smile. "This really means a lot."

They both smile back at him and bid him goodnight, and they start back on their journey home. Tracy has one hand in her coat pocket, the other in Ted's hand, as he does his best to shield it from the cold. They walk for a good block or two before Tracy realizes something: "Ted, we didn't give him any money!" she says worriedly, looking behind them. "What if he wants to eat something tomorrow? We have to go back!"

Ted smiles and lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her cold skin. "I left 50 bucks in my jacket pocket," he admits, hoping she won't make a big deal out of it. "So he'll be okay for a while, I promise."

Tracy breathes out a sigh of relief and looks up at him appreciatively, pressing her hands to his chest as she rises up on her toes and gives him a kiss. Despite the cold, her embrace is warm, and Ted soon forgets that he's not wearing a jacket. "I love you, pooh bear," she tells him softly. "Thank you."

"I love _you_," he tells her, his hands now covering hers on his chest. "I'd give the coat off my back, the boots off my feet, the hat off my head for you, no questions asked."

Her eyes soften at his words. "C'mon," she tells him as she pulls away, taking his hand as they proceed to walk. "Let's go home and get you warm."

* * *

The next morning, Ted hums a happy tune as he pours milk and sugar in his coffee at a café near Columbia. He has a particular spring in his step as he prepares for another day of lectures, after a lovely evening spent at his place with Tracy. Him, her, a cozy blanket, and no clothes... Ted forgot how much good deeds turn his girlfriend on, judging by the for-his-eyes-only photo she texted him the moment he walked out of the apartment that morning.

All kidding aside, Ted's happy to help her when she asks, to support the causes she believes in. Sure, he does it because he loves her and he can't say no to her. But in truth, he feels good about being able to help; he hears first-hand through Tracy about the poverty situation in New York, and if he has the time and the money to assist in any way, then why not do so? He definitely gets what Barney once referred to as a "soul boner". As cliché as it sounds, doing good _feels_ good.

Ted now exits the café and the first thing he notices is four men across the street, sitting in a row, one of them holding up a tattered cardboard sign that read 'Please help'. Despite their disheveled state and the cold morning weather, they seem in good spirits as they laugh amongst each other and ask people for some spare change.

Ted quickly retreats back into the café and waits in a long line again for the second time that morning. He'll be a little bit late for his first class, he realizes, but he shrugs this off. He's learned through Tracy that there are more important things in life; being five minutes late for a lecture isn't something to get worked up about. That's what he loves about her: how she's made him re-evaluate his life, how she's helped him take pleasure in the little things, how she's showed him to think of people other than himself.

Basically, she's made him into a better person—a better version of himself—and he's grateful to her for that.

He finally makes it to the head of the queue, standing in front of the same cashier that served him earlier. "Hi again," he says, offering her a friendly smile. "Can I have four coffees and four bagels? To go, please."

_END_


End file.
